


Je Te Veux

by daeneryssed



Series: confessa's widojest week 2020 cornucopia [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, F/M, I did not think of a title for any of my WJ week fics oh no, I think there needs to be some balance, Widojest Week, everyone has been posting such sweet widojest fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:41:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25107142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daeneryssed/pseuds/daeneryssed
Summary: Time was both a curse and a blessing. Marion Lavorre would not let it repeat itself.[prompt 1: Marion Lavorre OR Dance]
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast
Series: confessa's widojest week 2020 cornucopia [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820233
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49
Collections: Widojest Week 2020





	Je Te Veux

**Author's Note:**

> IT IS WIDOJEST WEEK EVERYONE. 
> 
> It is **highly recommended** that you listen to this wonderful version of Je Te Veux while you read this fic: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MAUVHcCxi1Q. 
> 
> This fic is written in a different style from what I am used to. I took inspiration from the tone of the song as well as Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys. I hope it's all right. Let me know if you like it!

_I'm understand your catastrophe_

_Dear lover_

_And I give you a oath_

_You will be my lover_

Time was both a curse and a blessing. 

Oh how many times Marion had wished she could turn back the hands of the clock. Rewind the years back five, ten, twenty years - to a time when she was younger, more carefree, when she was full of hopes and dreams and waiting for the love of her life to return to her. A baby growing in her belly and her heart so full it could burst. Every so often, she found herself sitting on the balcony of the Lavish Chateau, lost in the past, in the could-have-beens and the should-have-beens. 

A blessing it was too, though, for as painful as those few years had been - a heart broken, a single mother, all the many, many roads that had seemed paved with gold now reduced to one, carpeted red like the rest of the Lavish Chateau - as painful as it had been, time healed. Maybe not fully, not completely; chipped she would remain, an imperfect porcelain piece, but time healed. She moved on, as she had truthfully told Jester and her friends. 

_Far from us wisdom_

_So more sadness_

_I want a precious moment_

_I want you_

Now, she saw history repeat itself. A man, in love; a young girl, falling. Yet he would leave her. Marion could see it in his eyes. Right now, here, he danced with her, one set of hands clasped, the other on her waist, hers on his shoulder, taller than her. He smiled and she laughed. The eyes though - it was the eyes, Marion had learned with experience. That was another perk of time: you learned as you grew older. And this man’s eyes? They showed fear, guilt, shame. He felt unworthy of her daughter. He would not tell her. He would keep it bottled inside. And when Jester fell, he would not be there to catch her. 

That, Marion could not allow. It was not her place to intervene, she knew that, of course she knew that. Her fame was partly derived from her ability to listen, to soothe, to comfort and to distract; not to intervene. Jester was different. She was her baby. Her little sapphire. 

Jester would not suffer the same fate that Marion did; she would not sit on a balcony, watching the world go by, letting the sands of time wash away the pain of a broken heart that will never fully heal. 

Her song ended and the crowd clapped, the couples came to a rest, and Jester rested her head on the man’s shoulder, giggling, happy, cheeks flushed and tail curled around her body, coming to rest on his thigh. The man’s eyes were closed. Closed. Jester would not see. She would not see his eyes and she would not see the truth, the painful truth that was written there. 

_Open your eyes!_ Marion wanted to scream from the stage. _Open them, let her see_. 

A cough from the side of the stage. Bluud, waiting for her. Marion turned back before she walked off. Her daughter was gone. 

_I have no regrets_

_And I only have one desire_

_Near you there nearby_

_Live all my life_

“Frau Lavorre,” said the man later at the bar, when Marion approached him. “That was a lovely song. Truly.”

“Je te veux,” said Marion. “A song from my youth. It is my favourite song in the world.”

“Indeed, I wish I could speak the language.” 

“You can learn. Jester loves the song.”

The man froze. His fingers, which had been nervously playing with the stem of his wine glass, stopped moving. His face was turned away from her. 

“I am a perceptive person, Caleb,” she said. “I know a man in love. How long has it been?”

“Too long,” he relented after a few moments, shoulders sagging in defeat. “Long past how long it should have lasted.”

“Does Jester have a choice in that?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have decided you are not worthy of her. You have told her nothing of your feelings, even if she may suspect. You are now deciding there is nothing to it.”

“I only want the best for your daughter,” he said. “There are things about me, Frau Lavorre-”

“Marion.”

He looked at her finally. Pain. So much of it, everywhere. “Marion,” he said. “There are many things about me that if you knew, you would not want me anywhere near your daughter.”

“Then tell her. Tell me. Let us make the decision. You have known my daughter for so long. Do you not trust her?”

Caleb’s mouth opened, and closed, and opened, and closed. Marion watched it. She thought of Babenon, years back, trying to ask her out for a date. Marion waiting patiently, a giggle rising in her throat. She thought of herself, waiting at the docks of Nicodranas, walking up and down the Restless Wharf and the Open Quay, asking the sailors if they had seen Babenon. Her belly, swollen with child, her feet aching. He was nowhere. Nowhere. He was nowhere. 

Nowhere. 

“It would go nowhere,” said Caleb. “It _should_ go nowhere. Jester deserves a life more than what I can give her. I would not rob her of that. If she were to be with me, there is nothing but misery waiting for her.” 

“ _Trust her_ ,” Marion repeated. 

Caleb paused. Marion waited. Waited. She had waited for the entire day, the entire week, the entire year, for Babenon. She was a patient person. She would wait for this man’s answer. 

“All right,” he said finally. “All right. I shall.”

“Promise.”

“I promise, Frau Lavorre. I promise.”

_May my heart be yours_

_And your lip mine_

_May your body be mine_

_And let all my flesh be yours_

Misery came for Jester anyway. 

It was a hag, the Nein explained to her. Jester had tricked her, a cupcake and magical dust, to help Veth. She broke a curse, she was amazing, she was so smart. All words. Who cared about words? 

‘ _Oh Jester,_ ’ thought Marion, watching her daughter, who dragged a brush across an empty canvas and drew nothing. Her heart was gone. Her sweet daughter, so full of life and joy, her _jester_ , now reduced to a husk. The consequences of breaking a hag’s contract improperly. 

“I will ask the Wildmother again tomorrow.”

“That fucking Artagan needs to do something. He can’t let Jester be-”

“There are limits to what otherworldly beings can do, Beau. This magic is ancient.”

“ _Fuck that_.”

Oh Jester. The sound of a dry brush dragging across dry canvas. The rhythmic beat of her tail hitting the ground. Thud. Thud. Thud. Her eyes, blank. Oh _Jester_. 

Marion drew her into her arms. Jester curled inwards, hands coming up to clutch the dress on her back, like a child again. The clocks of time seemed to turn back. She was a child again, only five, crying because she had been scolded for painting on the side of a building. She had only wanted to make it pretty. She didn’t mean to make anyone mad. She was sorry. Marion held Jester. Her sweet little sapphire. The most important thing in the world to her. 

“He is gone, mama,” cried Jester. “He’s gone, he’s gone. Mama, he’s gone. I love him. I love him. What do I do? What do I _do_?”

_Oh Jester._

_Yeah, I see in your eyes_

_The divine promise_

_May your heart be in love_

_Come get my caress_

Marion watched Jester, watched the sands of time wash over her, watched her belly grow. Time was repeating itself. It was happening again. She would be sitting on that balcony, twenty years in the future, watching the world go by. Marion saw the future as if it was being painted for her, in vivid colours, all around her. 

The Nein were arguing in the adjoining room. Marion wished they would stop. Wished they would go away and leave them be. Oh how Marion had wished she could turn back the hands of the clock. She would never let Jester leave. She would keep her forever, in her happiest moments. 

“Who knows what the hell Halas would want from _us_?” she heard Beauregard yell. “A wish isn’t granted easily.” 

“But we could _bring him back_. Bring Jester back. Make them happy.” 

“It’s too risky. We can’t risk it.” 

“I agree.”

“Me too.”

“We will find another way, Veth.”

Marion listened to them. She watched Jester. Her belly. 

“Tell me, Jester,” she said, running a hand through her daughter’s hair. “What is your happiest moment? If you could return to one point in time, what would it be?”

Jester’s eyes turned up to her. A beautiful violet. They blinked a few times before she responded. “The dance, a few months ago. Caleb and I were dancing and you were singing Je Te Veux. Everyone was there. We were happy. It seemed like everything was going good. And Caleb was there. He told me he loved me that night. If I could- oh mama, if I could turn back time. I would go right there. I would dance with him forever.” 

That night, Marion sought out Veth. It was a ruby. A simple ruby. Marion looked into Veth’s eyes. Oh- _oh_. She loved him too. 

“I will do it,” said Marion. “She is my daughter.”

“What will you say?”

“I will wish for the hag’s curse to be released from my daughter and all those she loves, so that she may live her life in happiness, untouched by the misery that the hag would have brought.”

She touched the ruby, she spoke with the wizard inside, promised to set him free in exchange for a wish, and she said the words. 

_Enlaced forever_

_Burning the same flames_

_In a dream of love_

_We will exchange our two souls_

She saw history repeat itself. A man, in love; a young girl, falling. He danced with her, one set of hands clasped, the other on her waist, hers on his shoulder, taller than her. He smiled and she laughed. Their eyes sparkled with love. It was the eyes, Marion had learned with experience. A perk of time: you learned as you grew older. And this man’s eyes? They showed tenderness, affection, awe. He felt unworthy of her daughter. He would spend his life trying to love her the best way he could. He would follow her to the ends of the universe. When Jester fell, he would throw himself on a field of fire to catch her. 

Marion watched them dance. And dance. And dance. The clocks of hand stayed still. Time, frozen, in this little moment. 

She finished her song. 

**Author's Note:**

> I would also like to leave a small credit to Find Your Way Home by delazeur, which is a F!Hawke/Anders fic from the Dragon Age franchise. In particular, Chapter 4 of that fic, which is haunting and beautiful and has stayed with me since I first read it. The part where Marion describes Jester painting on the canvas was partially inspired by the style in which that Chapter 4 was written. Please go check it out: I aspire to write as well as that fic was written.


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